Date: Wed, 13 Aug 1997 14:50:40 -0400 (EDT)
From: Joaquim Delphino da Motta Neto <quim@qtp.ufl.edu>

                                       
Title: "Die Brennende Frage"
 Author: Quim (quim@qtp.ufl.edu)

 DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, The X-Files and all its characters 
             belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Network.
             But everybody knows that. If they were mine, Mulder and Scully
             would be picking out china patterns and Margaret Scully would be
             the happiest mother in this planet. I am NOT making any money out of 
             this experience. In summary, No copyright infringiment is intended.
 Rating: NC-17 for sexual situations and adult themes. Nothing graphic though. Violence.
 Classification: XAA (X-File, Adventure, Angst). Lots and lots of angst !
 Spoilers: Multiple spoilers for all seasons. It ain't fun otherwise. Mild references 
           to "Piper Maru", "Fire", "Tunguska", "Terma", "Blood", "Memento Mori",  
           "Herrenvolk", "Never Again" and "Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man".
           I should state right now that I have NO IDEA about what the 'Blackwood'
           screenplay is. This story is just a speculation based on the infamous
           'National Inquirer' spoilers and it has nothing to do with the movie ! 
           Please CC, don't be mad at me ! I am just a faithful, impatient fan !!!
 Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST, just hints of MSR. But I tried, out of my kindness,
           to spare those out there who are observationally challenged.
 Summary : International conspiracy. Mulder and Scully go to southern France to 
           investigate a weird explosion and a series of murders. This is a
           sequel to my previous story "Vitae Praecepta", but stands alone.
 Author's note: I am aware that there are a lot of 'M&S do Paris' fanfics out there, 
           but this one hopefully has nothing to do with those. This is a real X-File,
           and I tried to make it believable. As for the French/German stuff, I had
           a ball writing it. :-D  If CC can do it, why can't we ??? Montpellier is 
           a cool town, and the Colisee is a really cool hotel (I stayed there four 
           years ago). Thanks to my partner in crime Penny Daza for reading the story
           pre-post and giving me important feedback and incentive. Love you girl !


                 **************    Chapter I    ************

   Apartment 42
   2630 Hegal Place
   Alexandria, VA
   1:00 A.M.

   Fox Mulder surfed the channels and stopped at CNN. The announcer
   gravely recapped the News. For a moment Mulder was paralyzed by the sight
   of large flames consuming a factory. He hated fire. Even in TV.

   "In Montpellier, France, the board of directors of the 'LeBlanc' Chemical 
   Plant has called upon a press conference to offer an official explanation
   on the recent explosion of the central power plant, that extended to the 
   laboratories of the company. French engineers and fireworkers are still 
   working on the site, trying to gather information and control small fires.
   The French government has released a statement that security conditions 
   in chemical industries will be further examined by a group of independent
   federal investigators. But with no involvement of the Surete'."
 


   46th Street, New York
   4:00 A.M.

   The Well-Dressed Man frowned as the TV played the newscast from Eurovision.

   The Cigarette Smoking Man entered the room visibly annoyed.
   He didn't like to be called in the middle of the night, especially
   when he was trying to finish another Raul Bloodwort story. To make things 
   worse, he had to change his pen name or those geeks friends of Mulder 
   could trace him again. He was not a happy man.

   "This had better be important."
 
   The Well-Manicured Man debriefed him with his usual British regal posture.

   "Our associates in Europe told us that things have gone out of control.
   Now they have called for help."

   The Cigarette Smoking Man dragged another puff of the cigarette, and motioned
   them to proceed. "What exactly is the situation ?"

   "Apparently a couple of directors of the factory at Montpellier decided  
   to call the press upon the last happenings. It looks like they could 
   not be called upon reasoning. They are afraid that more people might die."

   "Well, then there is no time to lose. This matter has to be settled,
   once and for all, before it calls more attention."
   
   "Do you think that the French  will stand this intrusion ? We clearly
   have no jurisdiction upon this."

   "They know, as well as you do, that this matter must not be allowed to 
   become public. I will take care of it, and they can complain later."

   The Well-Dressed Man nodded. He knew that there was nobody to turn 
   the complaints to. At least, nobody in this planet.

   The Cigarette Smoking Man waved and the Grey-Haired man approached them.
   The following dialogue took place with no embarrassment of any part.

   "You know what to do. Kill them. All of them. I will have your plane 
   ticket arranged for tonight, along with the usual CIA credentials. 
   However, you must not use them except in case of absolute need."

   "I assume you want it to be done discretely."

   "At this point, I don't care. Just be careful and do the job. Neat and quickly."



   FBI Headquarters
   J. Edgar Hoover Building
   Washington, D.C.
   One week later
   8:04 A.M.
 
   Special Agent Dana Scully entered the small basement office already expecting
   a pile of paperwork to fill. Sometimes she longed for a quick vacation. She 
   greeted her partner Fox Mulder, delighted that he was using his reading glasses.
   "Good morning, Mulder."

   "Hi Scully."

   "What's up ? We got a new case ?"

   "I don't know. I just received this memo from Skinner. He wants to see us in 
   his office in one hour, probably for new assignment."
 



   FBI Headquarters
   J. Edgar Hoover Building
   Washington, D.C.
   9:03 A.M.
 
   "I believe the two of you have seen the news about the chemical factory in
   Southern France."

   Both Mulder and Scully quickly looked at each other and nodded. They had 
   better not start pulling all that silent communication crap on me now,
   Skinner thought. The Assistant Director resumed his briefing.

   "I was instructed to assign you to assist the Surete' in the case, in the
   capacity of... special consultants. You will be there undercover, with no
   support whatsoever from the Bureau or any other American agency."

   "Excuse me Sir, but why us ? We have no experience with covert operations."

   "I have no idea, Agent Scully. Apparently there are some details in this case
   that require someone with Agent Mulder's... unique expertise. You were recommended
   by some of your peers in England, and some people in the Surete' actually know
   your work, Agent Mulder. I tried to get more information, but nobody is talking
   to me but the Secretary of State.

   "Also, this requisition has come through some high channels in the European
   Community, not to mention the United States Justice Department and the State 
   Department. As such, it cannot be refused."

   Mulder couldn't help but sneer at the situation. He didn't bother to hide his 
   sarcasm. "I'm starting to feel flattered by the attention. Why all the secret ?"

   "The European Parlament wants absolute discretion in this operation. Furthermore,
   our Department of Defense clearly stated that no American involvement must be 
   acknowledged to the press. Therefore, you are on your own. For all intents and 
   purposes, you are on vacation, effective immediately. These are your plane tickets." 

   Mulder took the tickets and looked at them, still suspicious. Flight 29 to Paris, then
   flight 306 from Paris to Nice. "Nothing like one week of paid vacations in France."

   "With all due respect, Sir, you sound like there is some serious danger involved.
   May I remind you that we are not spies ? Our FBI training is not enough for a operation
   of this magnitude. This is not some silly spy movie. What if something goes wrong ?"

   "You will contact M. Jacquot Fournier at the local office of the Surete' at 
   Montpellier. He has been assigned to get you at the Nice Airport tomorrow morning.
   Your concern has been duly noted Agent Scully. It will be put on record.
   Unfortunately, I can't help you out of this. You are both dismissed. Good luck."

   They left the Assistant Director's office and immediately started to 
   make plans for the trip. As they walked along the corridors, Mulder 
   chivalrously kept his hand at Scully's small back.
   "How's your French, Scully ?"

   "Pas mal. But I haven't practiced for quite some time. My German is
   considerably better, because... You know... Medical school and all
   that jazz... What about you, Mulder ?"

   "Perhaps a little rusty, but I used to cross the channel a lot when I was in
   Oxford. It is easy to make tourism in Europe. It is also good for shopping..." 

   Scully chuckled, her voice full of sarcasm. "Yeah, right. I would say that 
   your magazine and video collection will be considerably enlarged after this 
   trip."

   "You go home and start packing. I have to make some calls, and run some 
   errands. I'll lock the office, and get you at your place at five. Our flight
   leaves D.C. at seven-twenty. Okay ?"

   "See you there Mulder."





   'The Magic Bullet'
   Headquarters of The Lone Gunmen
   Somewhere in Washington, D.C.
   2:40 P.M.

   "Did you get anything from your new contact... that swiss guy at Harvard ?"

   "He is sort of hiding a little because of the last issue of 'The Magic Bullet', 
   from one week ago. But I managed to contact him yesterday."

   "You're great Langly. What can you guys tell me about that factory ?"

   "Well, you know about the explosions. Last week, the French government closed the 
   factory without releasing any details to the press. The directors of the company
   couldn't be contacted. This week, two of them appeared dead in a river. Looked 
   like a Mafia hit, what is quite possible since the influence of organized crime is 
   much more widespread than any European government would like to admit."

   Mulder was already thinking ahead. "Whatever is happening there, a lot of 
   people are going to great lengths to ensure discretion.

   Frohike could not miss the opportunity of teasing Mulder a little.
   "So, you and the lovely Agent Scully are off to France... Seems interesting."

   "Come on guys, she's my partner. We are only friends. And this is work."

   The faces of Byers and Langly were inscrutable. They repeated, together, "Suuure..."

   "Frohike, I will not forget to bring you that doll you asked. I have to go now, 
   for I still have to pack. Bye guys. See you in one week. Maybe two."

   They shook hands and said their goodbyes. Langly was the last.
   "Bye Mulder. Enjoy your vacation, and take care. We don't want to lose you."

   Frohike had to add, "And don't let some french guy drool all over Scully or
   I'll never forgive you. Those guys don't shower !"

   Frohike frowned. He had meant it as a joke, but the mere thought was 
   disgusting to him.



   Somewhere in the Twin Towers
   Deutschland Bundesbank 
   Frankfurt, Germany
   9:00 P.M.

   Dr. Al Kurtzweil observed from the dark office the lights of Frankfurt. He missed
   the old days when he had worked in the State Department. Back then, loyalty and 
   comraderie had been a necessary requisite for carrying on the dangerous work he 
   was in charge of. He sadly remembered his friends Bill and Ronald... How they had
   fallen victims to the web of lies and deceit they had helped to build themselves.
   Kurtzweil promised himself he would not suffer the same fate as his friends.

   Now, he was stationed for some time at Frankfurt. He was in charge of keeping 
   the European partners of the Consortium under control. What had turned his 
   position into a delicate one. He could not let his motivations to be brought 
   to light. Not yet. Especially now that the date had been set.

   He did not appreciate the perspective of being exposed so soon, but something 
   had to be done. His assistant came from behind and whispered, visibly worried,
   "Das haben wir gemacht. Sie sind auf der Weg."

   "Gut. Wir haben nicht viel Zeit."

   "Warum glauben Sie, dass wir die Situation unter Kontrolle halten konnen ?"

   "Wir haben Sie uber fahre verfolgt. Ich weiss wie er denkt. Er wird zur 
   gegebenen Zeitwertull sein. Bedenken Sie, der Tag ist fostgesetzt."

   Kurtzweil's assistant was worried. Their own lives might be at risk now...
   "Wir nehmen ein hohes Risiko auf. Er ist nicht sein Vater. Was, wenn er versagt ?"

   Dr. Kurtzweil didn't want even to consider this possibility. Failure was 
   not an option. "Dann mag Gott uns helfen."





   Air France flight 29
   Somewhere over the Atlantic
   10:13 P.M.

   Special Agent Dana Scully hated to fly. She always felt more at ease on
   boats. Transatlantic flights were particularly frightening. To make things
   worse, she did not even enjoy the wonderful french wine served in the flight.
   She observed, both amused and angry, the effect her partner had on the flight
   attendants. All young, tall, gorgeous brunnettes. I wish I were five inches 
   taller, Scully thought.

   Mulder was slightly amused to see his partner fiercely holding on the chair.
   Her breath was irregular and her fingernails dugged deeply into the velvet 
   of the chair. His eidetic memory immediately brought to him images of her
   discomfort in their first trip to Oregon five years ago.

   Suddenly, the plane underwent slight tremors. Scully jumped in her chair and
   held to Mulder for dear life. One second later, she was again in control of
   herself, but embarrassed by the outburst.

   "It's okay, Scully. You don't have to be embarrassed. There is a lot of 
   people who don't like flying."

   She thought about opening a book and reading, but suddenly the lights in the 
   airplane were shut off. Scully was alarmed just for one second before she 
   realized that they were going to show a movie. Mulder tried to reassure her. 

   "Come on Scully, let's watch the movie and relax."

   The screen in front of them started to flicker. Scully was hoping that 
   this flight showed some new French release, so she could start to practice
   her French. She was not lucky. As the credits rolled, she rolled her eyes.
   "Men in Black. I can't believe it." Mulder chuckled, amused by the irony.

   Not bothering to watch the sequence of explosions and special effects,
   Scully simply removed her glasses, closed her eyes and rest her head
   on Mulder's shoulder, still holding his arm. She felt safe. She managed
   to doze into sleep minutes later.



   Gate for flight 306
   Nice International Airport
   11:52 A.M.

   Jacquot Fournier impatiently waited for his contacts at the Airport. He 
   had no idea of what to expect, and the whole situation made him very 
   uncomfortable. Whoever those two americans were, they had no business
   in coming to Montpellier poking their noses at French business.

   Fournier caught a glimpse of Mulder's tall figure from afar. He went to them
   with a serious look in his face. He had to be polite for the sake of international
   relations. "Bonjour. Monsieur Mulder et Mademoiselle Scully, je presume ?"

   "Oui. Nous sommes... tres fatigues apres du vol, parce qu'on a change'
   l'avion a` Paris. Avez-vous fait le reservation dans l'hotel ?"

   "Mais bien sur. Maintenant on prendre le train pour Montpellier, et on sera la-bas
   en... Une heure et demi. Vous aurez plain du temps pour vous recouvrer. Nous avons
   choisi l'horaire de 5:30 pour votre rendezvous avec le Comissaire."

   Scully didn't want to spend another hour and a half in a train, but the perspective
   of using the Train a Grand Vitesse was alluring. And it was not a plane.

   The trip to Montpellier would have been more thrilling if it were not work-related.
   However, Scully found the experience to be quite exciting. During the trip, Mulder
   attempted to engage in conversation with M. Fournier, eventually realizing that  his
   skills on the idiom were still sharp. Of course, Scully was not surprised by that. 
   After all, learning any idiom is a process that basically involves memory, so 
   certainly Mulder would have no problems. 
   



   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier
   3:12 A.M.

   The Hotel Verdun-Colisee was some hundred yards away  from the Gare. Arriving at
   the front desk, M. Fournier confirmed their reservations and got the keys with the 
   Concierge. Scully was a little embarrassed to discover they would have only one room.
   However, both she and Mulder noticed that although the hotel had been awarded two 
   stars only, it had undergone a recent renovation. In consequence, the rooms were 
   small but confortable, and very clean. Scully showered first, while Mulder unpacked.

   As Mulder showered, Scully tried to surf over the TV channels, to discover that 
   there was little or nothing worth watching. She guessed the french didn't need TV,
   as they had churches, monuments, museums, restaurants, theatres and Operas scattered
   all over the place. She also took some time to check some magazines describing the 
   cultural activity of the town. As he left the bathroom, she approached him, amazed.

   "Mulder this is incredible. Look at the number of cinemas and theatres of this town.
   This trip might be more enjoyable than what I thought."

   "And you didn't see anything yet. Listen, we still have two hours left. What
   about we have a walk in the neighbourhood and explore it a little ? I want to
   show you the Operas and the Palais des Congres."

   Scully raised her eyebrows. Her partner apparently was familiar with this region.
   "I'm impressed, Mulder. You have been here before ?..."

   "Hummm... Yeah, when I was at Oxford. We took a vacation during the summer break." 

   Scully realized that the subject was touchy, and didn't push. Although Mulder had
   said nothing, she had a suspicion that Mulder's odd behaviour had something to do 
   with his affair with Phoebe Green. 




   Local office of the Surete'
   Montpellier, France
   5:33 P.M.

   Mulder and Scully reached the local office of the Surete' following Fournier's 
   directions. They benefited from Mulder's previous acquantaince with the town, and
   even arrived five minutes early. Jacquot Fournier got the two Americans and led
   them to a special room, where they would meet Comissioner Michel Marquand, the
   man designated by the European Parlament as officer in charge of the operation.
   Fournier made the introductions. "M. Mulder, mlle. Scully. Comissaire Marquand."

   "Enchante', Mademoiselle. Bienvenue a Montpellier." 

   "Vous trouverez que les deux cadavres ont ete' preserves dans notre morgue."

   "I would like to check the autopsy reports and have the corpses examined, if you 
   don't mind. I will get ready while you set up the autopsy bay."

   Scully turned on her heels and went to the adjacent room to change. As she left,
   the Comissioner looked at Mulder and blurted out, "Mon Dieu, elle est... absolument..."

   Fournier chuckled from his boss' attitude. "D'accord, elle est tres chouette."

   "This doesn't even begin to describe," Mulder muttered, amused.



   Autopsy Bay
   Local Office of the Surete'
   Montpellier, France
   5:38 P.M.

   Scully adjusted her lab coat and turned her recorder on. She knew that whatever
   she found in the  corpses would never find place in an official field report, but
   an X-File was another matter. Both Scully and her partner liked to keep all their 
   files filled with as much information as possible, if not for future reference.

   "Montpellier, August the tenth... five-thirty-eight p.m.... Subject is a caucasian 
   male in his forties... Cause of death previously determined as gunshots throughout 
   the body... Currently in advanced stage of decomposition due to prolongued exposure
   to water..."

   Time passed. The autopsies proceeded without interruption. Both bodies presented a
   gruesome picture, and at a certain point Mulder was not surprised to see the 
   Comissioner rush to the bathroom. Mulder was beginning to feel sick himself. God,
   Scully must have an stomach of gold, he thought. For his relief, she finally left
   the autopsy bay and removed the mask.
  
   "Well Mulder, at least we know why they called you in this one."

   "Really ? What did you find ?"

   "To begin with, they didn't die of gunshots. You see, when someone dies of
   execution by gun machine, the muscles tense in a certain way. Also, even with
   brain damage there are certain physiological effects associated, such as the
   release of hormones like adrenaline. None of those patterns match with these
   two bodies."

   Mulder payed attention, for now things were getting interesting.

   "There was something else in the bodies... I think the original medical 
   examiner missed it because he is not used to look for weird things like that.
   It was probably very natural for him to assume that this was a mafia hit,
   and they used the gunshots as the obvious explanation for both deaths."

   "If they didn't die of gunshot wounds... Then how did they die ?"

   "One of the bullets punctured the heart of one of them, so the medical examiner
   made a cursory exam only for routine procedure. Then he found evidence of a 
   heart attack. More than that, the blood was thickened and the toxicology has
   revealed an abnormally high production of red cells. We have seen this before,
   Mulder."

   Mulder's eidetic memory made the connection almost instantly.
   "Agent Weiss, from the Syracuse field office... Are you saying this man 
   has been exposed to blood from Gregors ?"

   Scully sighed frustrated as she realized where this conversation was leading to.
   "Might be. This might also be consistent with the information that the Gregors
   originally came to the U.S. from Europe."

   "Or they came back here after we exposed their operation in Syracuse."

   "In any case, those men couldn't possibly be exposed by accident at the same time."

   "And this means there was no 'accident'. How do you explain that ?"

   "I don't. There is nothing I know of that could cause this Mulder. I'm surprised
   that I thought of checking something so weird. I think you are corrupting me."

   "I have always wanted to corrupt you in a morgue. Isn't it exciting, Scully ?"

   Fournier approached them. "Le Comissaire est desole' por vous laisser a cet 
   moment, mais il m'a requisite' de vous donner notre appreciation pour votre aide."

   Fournier's serious face told Mulder their 'help' was not completely welcome.
   "Il m'a demande' aussi de vous fixer l'horaire de 10:30 demain le matin pour 
   votre prochain rencontre avec lui. Il serait tres heureux de revoir a Mlle.
   Scully... dans une ambiance plus sociale."

   Scully just grasped the general context of the words, but from Mulder's 
   chuckle she knew he had understood everything Fournier had said. As they left
   the office, she asked, "Mulder, what the hell was all that about ?"

   "It seems that you have already scored, less than ten hours after you set
   foot on France. Not bad. Don't worry about Comissioner Marquand, Scully. 
   It's all talk. Fournier told me he is married."



   LeBlanc Chemical Factory
   Laboratory Building
   6:07 P.M.

   At the Laboratory, two workers dressed in pressurized suits looked for anything
   that the initial blast had not destroyed. They both carried flamethrowers. At any
   sight of movement, they opened their fire against it. The fire in conjunction with
   the chemicals should be enough to kill... whatever it was. However, Giuseppe Martin
   and Claude Samard were afraid. They might very well die without knowing where it came
   from. This task had to be finished. Now, failure was equal to death.

   "C'est la merde, ca !... Qu'est qu'on fait ici ?..."

   "Ne paniquon pas, Claude. Nous sommes jusqu'au fin de ca merde..."

   "Qu'est que c'est que ca ?"

   Samard looked down. From the debris on the floor, hundreds of what seemed black
   worms crawled up his legs. He cried in pain and dropped his flamethrower.
    
   Martin watched, appaled, as the black worms crawled over his partner's body. 

   "Claude !!! Sortez ! Mon Dieu..." There was nothing to be done. Samard's eyes
   slowly turned black. Martin knew that he would be next if he stayed there.

   "Merde... Pardon, mon ami. Au revoir."

   Giuseppe Martin directed the flamethrower directly at the shuddering
   body of his partner and used it at full blast.




   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   7:03 P.M.

   Mulder impatiently knocked at the door of the room. Why did women have to take
   so much time just to go to an Opera ? It was not like this was a date...

   "Let's go Scully, we have only twenty minutes till the beginning of the show."

   "Just a minute, Mulder."

   Mulder realized that, for some reason he could not fathom, he was nervous as a 
   schoolboy in his first date. Before he had time to wonder why, the door opened
   and he was rendered paralyzed by the picture in front of him. His diminutive partner,
   wearing a white shirt, a black mini-skirt, long black boots and an absurdly long 
   black coat that made her look like a coquette french teenage going to the University.
   Scully raised her eyebrows, satisfied with the effect. Mulder thought he would faint.

   "Est-ce que le chat a mange' votre langue, Mulder ?" 

   "Hummm... Oui. Il a. In Rome like the Romans, Scully ?"

   "That's right Mulder. We have to look like locals. Since you decided to use this 
   stupid hat, I thought I could do the same. We have to be in character. Not call 
   attention."

   "Not to call attention ?..." He chuckled. She could not be serious. He looked down
   to her hands and noticed she was carrying a book. He took the book and read the cover.

   "Jean-Paul Sartre. 'Critique de la Raison Dialectique'. Nineteen-Oh-Five... 
   Aren't you exaggerating a little, Scully ?"

   "Nope. This is a good opportunity to review early twentieth-century philosophy.
   Since we are in France, nothing better than recap Sartre's marxist phase with
   a classic."

   I just got very turned on, Mulder thought. Scully left the room, and Mulder 
   followed her.



   L'Opera de Montpellier
   11 boulevard Victor Hugo
   Montpellier, France
   8:41 P.M.   

   Mulder and Scully arrived at the opera house only five minutes early, enough to 
   get their seats and read the program. The opera to be shown was Giacomo Puccini's 
   'Le Villi'. In the middle of the First Act, as the orchestra worked on the achords 
   of Anna and Roberto's duet 'Tu dell'infanzia mia', Scully whispered to Mulder, 
   delighted, "Mulder, I'm really impressed. I'll never mock your taste in cultural
   entertainment again."

   "I can be sophisticated at the appropriate occasions. Like when I am in the 
   company of a beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated woman..."

   "...who reads Jose Chung novels," Scully added, scornful.

   "Nobody's perfect Scully. You have a lot of redeemable qualities."

   "Herr Mulder ? Frau Scully ?"

   Both Mulder and Scully turned around to see a tall, blond man behind them.
   Mulder's instincts clicked on immediately, but he figured out that the man
   would have hurt them easily if he had intentions to do so.

   "And you would be ?..."

   "Mein name ist unwichtig. Ich habe Mitteilung fur Sie."

   Scully was not liking this. The few occasions she had faced one of Mulder's past 
   informants, nothing good came out of it. Anyway, this was an opportunity for her 
   to practice her German. She only wished it had come in more pleasant circumstances.

   "You have somehow to enter the LeBlanc Factory. You have little time."

   "Why ? What's going on ?" Mulder tried to squeeze as much as possible from the guy.

   "I can't waste time in details. Herr Mulder, you have the background... 
   From your past experiences in Hong Kong... Canada... and at Tunguska."

   Mulder nodded as the memories quickly came to him. The German informant proceeded.

   "In the laboratories of the Factory you might find the evidence that has
   been eluding you. But you don't have much time. In the next week the place
   will be sanitized. And all evidence will be gone."

   "Evidence of what ?..." Scully asked, suspicious.

   "Das ist die brennende Frage, nicht wahr ? Guten Abend, Herr Mulder. Frau Scully."

   The German guy turned and left. Mulder thought about following him, but 
   figured he would only put the guy at risk. They chose to leave the place
   discretely, after the show. After all, officially they were only tourists.
 
   During the intermission, Scully didn't make any effort to hide her skepticism.
   "I don't trust him, Mulder. He gave you nothing. He's using you."

   "He's not a very talkative guy, is he ?"

   "And what does it mean... 'burning question' ?"

   "I don't know. After the show, let's go get a crepes before going back to the Hotel ?"

   "Seems nice. You know, Mulder, I had better watch my weight."




   Somewhere in the Twin Towers
   Deutschland Bundesbank
   Frankfurt, Germany
   10:13 P.M.

   Dr. Kurtzweil heard the telephone ringing already knowing who was it. It was 
   inevitable that somehow his associates in the U.S. would be informed about the
   couple of FBI agents temporarily borrowed by the Surete'. He had his story well
   prepared. He immediately recognized the grave distinct timbre of the Cigarette
   Smoking Man.

   "I assume you know about Agents Mulder and Scully being spotted at the 
   Nice Airport, and later at Montpellier."

   "Yes, I have just been informed."

   "This is quite a coincidence, don't you think ? Your agency would not have
   anything to do with this arrangement, would it ?"

   Kurtzweil could picture the Cancerman's eyes narrowing as he heard his voice...
   "Not that I am aware. But I will check and take the proper providences 
   if necessary. You know that I keep a tight control on every part of the
   project under my supervision."

   "For your sake, I hope so. This situation is very distressing. And it 
   comes in a very inconvenient moment."

   "We have had an example of your efficiency three days ago. I trust you are
   capable of dealing with Mulder and his partner... Discretely."

   Kurtzweil hang up the phone and considered the possible scenarios. 
   He was running out of time.




   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   12:35 A.M.

   As soon as they reached their room, Scully noticed that Mulder was... agitated.
   "You okay, Mulder ?"

   "Huummm... Yeah, I was just thinking about going to that machine downstairs
   and get a can of Perrier. I'm thirsty."

   "Me too. Wait a second, I'll give you some coins. Get one for me."

   Mulder sat on his bed and waited as Scully opened her purse and retrieved some money.
   Mulder didn't noticed that she had also reached for a pair of handcuffs. Before 
   he had any time to think, Scully quickly jumped on Mulder and handcuffed him to the
   bed. Then, she simply picked the keys and put them back on her purse, smiling.

   Mulder stared at his partner, confused. "What ?..."

   Scully didn't waste time in let her partner have it. She was angry, but
   also amused to see Mulder in this embarrassing position.

   "Mulder, cut the crap. I have known you for years. From the moment we left
   the Opera I knew you were going to ditch me again. But this time, I won't 
   let you. You were going to that damn factory alone, weren't you ?"

   Mulder didn't say anything. He felt like a little boy caught with his hand
   in the cookie jar.

   "I knew it. Mulder, I know you don't want to endanger me. But some day you will
   have to come to your senses. I am your partner, and you have to trust me."

   He sighed in frustration. "I should have known that I couldn't hide anything from 
   you... Are you planning to leave me handcuffed to this bed the whole night ?"

   She grinned mischieviously. "Yes, I am. I always dreamed of having you at my mercy."

   "I just got very turned on."

   "Good night Mulder." Scully turned off the lights and the room collapsed into darkness.

   "Hey, you are not going to bed in these clothes. Aren't you going to change ?"

   "Yes, I will. Right now. You won't see anything, because there is no light."

   Fox Mulder started to think he had gone into SERIOUS trouble when he had fallen for
   this woman. She was really intending to let him sleep like that, with all his clothes
   on, handcuffed to his bed. On top of that, she was going to change in front of him...

   Although the room was really dark, as Mulder's eyes started to get used to the 
   blackness around, he caught glimpses of Scully's shape walking around the room. 
   He watched with a twisted fascination as she sat on her bed and started removing
   her clothes... First the boots, and the large coat... He squinted desperately as 
   she removed the miniskirt and the white blouse. 

   This is killing me, Mulder thought. He inhaled deeply as if trying to catch 
   Scully's scent. He knew she had nothing but her undies. As Scully's slender
   body walked to the drawer and retrieved her silk pajamas, a police car passed
   at the street below. A fraction of the police car lights stormed into the room
   for a second, and Mulder was marveled by the most beautiful sight of his entire
   life. It was like a revelation of cosmic proportions. He thanked God for his 
   photographic memory. 

   Although his plans for the night had been radically altered, Mulder was thankful.
   He would get back to Scully in due time. For now, he simply adjusted himself
   against the bed and allowed his still tense, aroused body to relax.
   Strangely enough, he slept heavily that night.  




   LeBlanc Chemical Factory
   Montpellier, France
   8:20 A.M.

   Some hundred yards away from the entrance of the Factory, Mulder and Scully
   stalked the neighbourhood. They hid in the bushes on the top of a hill,
   observing the movements inside the factory. Mulder used the same binoculars
   that he had borrowed from Frohike during the spree killer case back in 
   Franklin, PA three years ago. That little thing worked pretty well. 

   "Check this out Scully... Those trucks with the garbage from the fire. They come
   and go. It's the only entrance to the factory, but it is under heavy guard." 

   "Do you think there is any way we can sneak into the factory and look inside ?"

   "I don't know... I might go into one of those at that corner, but... We need a 
   distraction. Something to make them take their eyes from the trucks."

   Suddenly Mulder turned his head and stared at his partner. His face was only 
   inches away from hers, and he was acutely aware of that. Memories of the 
   previous night flashed across his mind. Scully noticed.

   "Oooh no... No, Mulder ! Don't even think about it !"

   "Come on Scully. I don't want you to strip for these guards. I was thinking 
   about something more innocent, but equally effective. Come with me, let's go
   back to the car. I'll explain my plan to you."

   Still suspicious, Scully followed her partner. She had a hunch that she
   would not enjoy this.

 



   LeBlanc Chemical Factory
   Montpellier, France
   8:40 A.M.

   This better work, Mulder, Scully thought. She was really embarrassed for 
   being put in this position. It also didn't help to know that Mulder was
   again risking his own neck.

   It had taken only fifteen minutes for her to go to the Hotel and change
   her clothes. Now, Scully slowly drove the small Citroen that had been put
   at their disposal by the Surete'. She drove around the neighbourhood for
   some minutes to give Mulder time to be in position.

   She checked her watch, and her body tensed as she headed towards the entrance
   of the factory. Okay, let's put this show on the road, Scully thought. As she
   approached the scene, she didn't fail to notice the rows of trucks entering
   and leaving the factory. Scully quickly allowed herself to peek at the 
   corner to see Mulder waiting for the first opportunity. 

   Scully drove directly across the gate, and let the car engine die some ten 
   yards away. She turned the key on as to give the impression that she had 
   difficulties. She repeated the move three or four times, always letting
   the engine die on purpose. Although two or three of the guards looked at
   her, she decided to draw more attention.

   Scully left the car, using the same outfit from the previous night at the 
   Opera. She looked gorgeous of course, and most of the factory workers inside
   the fence started to look at her. This seems to be working, Scully thought.

   She opened the caput of the car and looked at the engine, trying to remember 
   all the details that Mulder had shown her. Seconds later, she went back  to the
   front seat and dropped the long coat, not being oblivious to the serious looks
   that the guards gave her. She felt like a stripper. I'll get you for this, 
   Mulder, she cursed.

   Scully got some tools that she had placed conveniently at hand, and went back to the
   back of the car using the side hidden from the factory. She momentarily stopped at 
   the back wheel and quickly opened a small valve in the tires as to let some of the 
   air escape. Turning back to the engines, she spent some minutes pretending to work
   on the problem, not failing to notice that some of the guards grinned at her. 
   She gave some smiles back and after some minutes, the engine came back to life. 
   The factory workers looked really impressed with that short, beautiful woman
   who had great legs and at the same time seemed to understand mechanics.

   As Scully finished the job on the engine, she quickly peeked at the corner. 
   Mulder was gone. He should be inside the factory now. All she could do 
   now was to go on with her show and pray that Mulder got the hell out of 
   there as soon as possible. She looked at the tire and saw it was considerably
   flat. She started to curse in the best French she could, and was at the 
   same time relieved and scared when three guards approached her.

   She engaged in idle chat with one of the guards, who told her how the guys had
   been impressed with her mechanics expertise and how they decided to give her a
   break about the tire. Never quitting smiling, Scully told them she had learned
   some tips from her brothers (what was true), but was upset about making her 
   clothes dirty by changing the tire.

   The guys exchanged turns in changing the tire and talking to her, never letting 
   their eyes away from her legs. Mulder, you are a dead man, she repeated to herself.

   One of the guards asked if she was American, and Scully realized her accent 
   would give her away quickly. She answered something about being a tourist on
   vacation and the french guys, although very polite and chivalrous, and never
   invading her personal space, almost drolled over her. They seemed enchanted.
   Scully tried to bring back to her mind images of those gorgeous french models
   from all those advertisements that she had seen. She even managed to pull out
   some poses, and the guards were obviously delighted. This was really embarrassing.
   Talk about 'La Galanterie Francaise'...

   Once the tire had been changed, Scully gave the french guys her best smile
   and thanked. One of the guards actually got the nerve to ask to meet her 
   later somewhere, but she politely answered that she was flattered, but she
   had to meet her fiance'.

   Without wasting more time, Scully waved to the guards and rushed back to the hotel.
   


   Le Grand Cafe' Riche
   Esplanade Charles-de-Gaulle
   Montpellier, France
   9:40 A.M.

   Scully was furious. After her little adventure at the gates of the factory,
   she had gone straight to their room and changed back to her taylored suit.
   She climbed the Verdun street and entered the Cafe', immediately spotting 
   Fox Mulder, who was sitting at a table, grinning at her. 

   "Mulder, you're a dead man ! I'm going to kill you !"

   "For real ? All my dreams come true. I'm all yours."

   "You're not off the hook with pleasantries and smooth talk, Mulder. I was feeling 
   like a strip dancer. Those guys were giving me some serious looks there." 

   "Come on Scully, you gave them something to dream about. You were not really in
   danger. Did you forget what I told you about 'La Galanterie Francaise' ?..."

   She sighed, frustrated. She attempted to rationalize the events in terms of their
   immediate purpose. "Did you see anything inside ?"
   
   "You bet. This is amazing Scully. Remember I told you about the bee hives.. When
   I went to Canada with Jeremiah Smith ? When I saw my sister ?"

   Scully frowned at the memory. That was when she had discovered the cataloging 
   that had been done throughout the century using smallpox vaccinations as cover-up.
   She distinctly remembered when Mulder had appeared in the Hospital, and she had
   held him in her arms by his mother's bedside.

   "This factory is not simply for large-scale production of our usual chemicals.
   They do some weird stuff there. I saw tanks like those where the Consortium breeds
   the hybrid clones. The tanks were empty though. Some laboratories study drugs for 
   treatment of variola. And insecticides designed specifically for killing bees."

   "How did you get this folder ?"

   "There was some guy in the laboratory that approached me. He just said that I
   should take a look at this folder, and that I had seen enough. He advised me 
   to get the hell out of there, and I took it seriously as he seemed to be scared
   to death. He even showed me a discrete exit at the other side of the factory.
   I even had time to go around, reach that hill and watch the end of your stunt."

   At this point, Mulder noticed that his partner was still upset. He closed 
   the folder and took some minutes to confort her. They always could discuss
   the case later. Mulder would not give it away, but he wondered if perhaps
   his plan had worked TOO well. He had indeed felt quite jealous for the 
   attention Scully had received from the frenchmen.

   "Sorry for putting you through this... Are you okay ?"

   "Yeah, I'm fine... I think was not cut for being a spy." 

   "I'm sorry if you were uncomfortable, Scully. But there was no way I would get 
   into that factory so quickly. And even if it were, I would never put you in 
   danger."

   Mulder carefully reached over the table and caressed Scully's hands. She raised
   her eyebrows and looked at him. "Please, Mulder, let's never do this again.
   I was worried about you... I didn't know if you would get out of there."

   "Okay. I promise." He kissed her hand, and gave her his best puppy dog look. 
   "You see Scully, I was really impressed. You can put that show for me privately
   whenever you want." By the look in her face, he saw the gauntlet had been a bad idea.

   "Don't hold your breath, Mulder. Let me see these files."




   Local office of the Surete'
   Montpellier, France
   10:45 A.M.

   After Mulder and Scully left the Cafe', they went directly to the office of
   the Surete' and took copies of the documents in the folder, leaving them with 
   the Comissioner. The old man of course dropped all the cumpliments on the 
   efficiency demonstrated by Mademoiselle Scully, both in the autopsy and in 
   the factory adventure. A tribute both to her skill and her beauty.

   Scully couldn't believe she had to go through this a second time in the same day,
   and just for effect she took Mulder's arm, pleading that he understood her 
   position. He not only obliged, but even held her hand as she spoke, and the 
   Comissioner started to feel embarrassed. Apparently those two had something 
   else going on between them. He told them to take the afternoon off and set
   an appointment with them at 10:30 the next day to discuss the new evidence.

   As they left, the Comissioner put his best face and apologized to Scully.




   Le Corum
   Palais des Congres
   Esplanade Charles-de-Gaulle
   Montpellier, France
   11:13 A.M.


   Mulder was worried about his partner. Apparently she was STILL upset.
   They had decided to take some time to walk along the streets of Montpellier. 
   As they climbed to the high part of the town, Scully noticed that Mulder softly
   held her hand. She didn't pull back, since he had apologized for the early 
   morning incident. She figured he was probably feeling guilty... Or was it 
   something else ? "Where are we going, Mulder ?"

   "I want to show you the School of Medicine."

   Scully let him take the lead. Mulder entered a irregular, narrow street that led to
   a steep descent. Two or three blocks later, they turned a corner and reached the
   School of Medicine. Scully was appalled as they approached the huge stone structure,
   resembling more a medieval castle. Mulder was amused to see his partner speechless.

   "You know, Scully, this the oldest School of Medicine in the World. This thing
   has been built in the Middle Ages. I thought you would like to see it."

   "This is incredible, Mulder. I want to look inside."

   "I don't know if they are open now, but we can try."

   Although the visit was indeed interesting and nice, Scully enjoyed very little.
   She was in no mood for having a good time. And Mulder noticed.



   LeBlanc Chemical Factory
   Montpellier, France
   1:40 P.M.

   Giuseppe Martin peeked around the corridor looking for any sign of trouble. He 
   had to get out of the factory before anyone missed the folder he had given to
   the American. There was no point in remaining in this place. He was planning to
   go to the mountains and hide in the cabin owned by his cousin near Milan.

   As he left the office and headed towards the elevator, Martin realized that he
   was not alone. A Grey-Haired Man dressed in black pointed a gun to him. Two shots 
   were fired and he fell to ground.

      *************************  End of Chapter I  ******************************


                   ***************    Chapter II    ****************

   Le Restaurant Parisienne
   Esplanade Charles-de-Gaulle
   Montpellier, France
   2:45 P.M.

   During lunch, Mulder was REALLY worried. Scully had withdrawn to a point where she was
   barely talking. He decided he had better do something before she shut him out for good.

   "Meanwhile, I decided to quit the FBI and become a spokesperson for the ab roller."

   "Sorry, Mulder, I was... distracted."

   "I'll say. You are not even looking at me. Listen Scully, I want to know what's 
   bothering you. And I don't want to hear that 'I'm fine' crap. You are my partner,
   and my best friend, Scully. I trust you. Can't you share it with me ?"

   Scully remembered how Mulder had been the only one she had called after the 
   diagnosis of her cancer. How he had saved her life several times. How, despite 
   their strained relationship,  she had tried to call him when things got ugly in
   Philadelphia. If there was someone in this world with whom she could share 
   anything, it was Fox Mulder. There was only one possible answer. "Always."

   "It's about what happened this morning in the factory, isn't it ?"

   "Yes... It is. Remember I told you I was not cut to be a spy ?"

   "I told you I was sorry. This will never happen again. I won't let it."

   "Yes, but there's more to it, Mulder. This is not about you."

   "Then tell me."

   "I think it has something to do with my Catholic upbringing... We learn 
   from an early age to associate sex and guilt."

   "Did you feel... used ?"

   "Yes. Our thought processes work at several levels, Mulder. You know that
   from your psychology degree.

   "When I was there, I tried to rationalize what I was doing in terms of the purpose:
   get you inside that factory. This was conscious. As I talked and flirted with those
   men, I remembered what you had said about them being 'gentlemen'. That they would not
   push if I said no. This was conscious. I also knew that they probably would not try 
   anything in plain sight, in plain daylight. All this was conscious. My intellect could
   handle all that, and everything I had to do was to flirt for sometime. And I did it.
   I executed. I even tried to enjoy it. In my head, everything was under control."

   "But in your heart..." Mulder was beginning to understand.

   "I panicked. No matter what my brain thought, I felt dirty. Cheap. When I am 
   with someone, I give myself completely, Mulder. Nothing holds me back. I guess 
   that's why I haven't had a date in ages... because I am somehow preserving myself
   for the man I will choose. I know it sounds silly, for I am not a girl anymore. 
   I have had my share of sexual experiences, and it has not been very fulfilling... 
   I can't simply use sex and discard the event and go on with my life. It's not me.
   I have tried before, and that's why I know."

   Suddenly Scully was assaulted by memories. Going out with Jack Willis to see 'Glengarry
   Glen Ross' and being scornfully dumped. Going to Ed Jerse's apartment in Philadelphia 
   expecting to connect with him, just to spend the night unfulfilled, trying to forget
   Fox Mulder's face... and be viciously attacked by the nutcase in the very next morning.

   "But there's more. I could not avoid the thought that you were inside the factory, 
   alone, maybe in danger. My heart ached because I knew I should be with you, and 
   not with them. I wanted to be with you."

   Fox Mulder immmediately embarked in one of his usual guilt trips. How could he have
   been so stupid as to hurt the only person he trusted ? How could he be so dense and
   self-centered as to go on with his quests and stunts, and not look at the heart of 
   this generous, brave, passionate, noble, wonderful woman ? At this moment, Mulder was
   as convinced as ever that he did not deserve Dana Scully. As she finally broke down
   in tears, he went to her and held her in his arms. Scully sobbed profusely.

   "I wanted to be with you..." It was the only thing she managed to utter between tears.

   "I know. I know, Scully..."




   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   8:08 P.M.

   "Mulder, where are going ?"

   "I'm going out for a walk. You try to sleep, today was hard for you."

   Scully rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. This was not 
   good at all. "Mulder, you don't have to do this. I know you are in a guilt
   trip because of what I told you. But I feel better now. It was difficult for
   me to share, but you were there for me. I am grateful for that."

   Mulder knew Scully was being sincere, but he didn't want to make her spend 
   the night with a man in the same room. Especially him. 

   "I think you may be still associating what happened with my attitude, and 
   I don't want to push. Don't worry, I won't do anything stupid... See you 
   tomorrow. Good night."



   The Fountains at the Corum
   Esplanade Charles-de-Gaulle
   Montpellier, France
   1:15 A.M.

   Fox Mulder had walked for hours. He felt ashamed, unworthy of being in the same room as
   Dana Scully. He observed how the artificial illumination turned the fountains into 
   phantasmagoric entities. The waters dancing, up and down... Alluring and cold at the 
   same time... Just like the women in his video collection. Just like Phoebe Green.

   Mulder wondered when the innocent, little boy from Massachussets had died... 
   When he had definitely embraced darkness and become the monster he was now.

   From that same darkness, from behind him, emerged the figure of the mysterious
   German informant who had approached them at the Opera the night before.

   "Guten Abend, Herr Mulder."

   "We seem to be traveling in the same circles these days."

   "Please, don't turn around. You might be under surveillance right now. 
   I am here at great risk. Hast du der Mitteilung ?"

   "Yes. I have it. And it cost me too much."

   "What do you mean ?" The German was befuddled.

   "This whole crap probably screwed my life." The statement was as bitter as the feeling.

   "What's at stake here is bigger than you or me. You have to proceed, or more
   people will die... Everything dies, Herr Mulder. You have to let it go."

   "And what if I don't want to let go ?"

   Silence. Mulder loathed informants.

   "That's what I thought. Scully was right. You are only using me."

   "I can't tell you anything else, Herr Mulder. You have the information. Now 
   you have to decide which path to take. Nobody can help you. Follow your heart,
   and try to do what is right. Maybe then you find the truth."

   His final words startled Mulder. "Wait !... How can I follow my heart ?"

   "Das ist die brennende Frage, nicht wahr ? Auf wiedersen, Herr Mulder."

   Mulder waited for some seconds and turned around. He was alone. With no one 
   to follow, except his own heart. His life might be over, but he would not go 
   without fighting. After all, that was the essence of Fox Mulder.

   As Mulder left the square and the fountains behind, not looking back, he was observed
   by the German guy, hiding in a dark corner, from a discrete distance. The man had
   done his job. Now he could go back to the safety of his office in Frankfurt.

   The German turned around and stopped dead in his track. He saw the Gray-Haired Man,
   pointing a gun at him. For him, the game was over. He didn't even had time to say 
   his prayers. The Gray-Haired Man fired twice and left the scene. There was no need 
   of disposing of the body. He would never be identified anyways.
 

  

   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   6:22 A.M.

   Fox Mulder walked until the sun started to appear in the horizon. Eventually he 
   went back to the hotel, finding that the concierge's family was already up and
   setting tables for the petit dejeuner. As Mulder waited for the elevator, the 
   telephone rang and the concierge picked it up.

   "Bonjour, Verdun-Colisee... M. Mulder ? Ah, vous avez de bonne chance. Il est
   ici a cette moment. Attendez s'il vous plait."

   The concierge gestured to Mulder, who picked up the phone. "Mulder here."

   "Fox ?..."

   "Mrs. Scully ? Hi... Do you want to talk to Dana ?"

   "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Is everything okay, Fox ?"

   Mulder lied so as to spare Margaret. "Sure. Why do you ask ?"

   "I had a horrible nightmare last night. The both of you were there. You were in a dark,
   cold place, very close to each other.  But you seemed not to see Dana.  You were both 
   afraid. You both screamed, calling desperately for each other, but neither did listen.
   It was awful. I had to call you and check... I'm sorry for interrupting your vacation."

   "Everything is fine, Mrs. Scully. I will tell Dana to call you as soon as she wakes up."

   "Thanks Fox. Take care of my baby girl."

   With my life, he thought. After Mrs. Scully hang, Mulder turned to the concierge.

   "Humm... Excuse moi... J'ai besoin d'acheter une chose... Est-ce qu'il y a un 
   magazin ouvert maintenant ?"

   "Je crois que le Magazin Monoprix est ouvert d'apres 7 heures."




   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   8:15 A.M.

   Dana Scully woke up and stretched her body, not caring to leave the bed yet. 
   As time passed, she felt the room was too silent. She turned around to see that
   Mulder's bed was empty. He most likely had not even slept during the night.

   As Dana spent considerable strength of will to lift herself from the bed, she 
   looked at the table. There was a big floral arrangement of roses, with a small
   envelope on it. She went to the table and took the envelope, opening it. Inside
   there was a card, written in the familiar Mulder's handwriting.


                 PARTNER
                 I am sorry for not thinking
                 I am sorry for being me
                 I am sorry for hurting you
                 I know I don't deserve you
                 I do admire your strength
                 I do value your advice
                 I trust you, with my life
                 I need you, more than ever
                 Will you please forgive me
                 You have my life and my heart
                 Yours always, Mulder


   Scully chuckled and smelled the flowers. Fox Mulder was really a boy in his heart.
   Doing evil things without thinking, and then feeling guilty and resorting to sweet
   gestures to make up for. But even then, she saw from the amount of "I"s and "me"s in
   the message that all that was still about him. For Fox Mulder, the world revolved 
   around him. And Dana Scully had somehow been put in the center of this world.

   She wondered why she still put up with him. Reading the card again, she noticed the
   number of "you"s. She also noticed that, along the message, the "you"s were getting
   closer and closer to the beginning of the sentence. In the end, the "You" was in the
   beginning, and his name was in the end. Scully saw then that she had been given the 
   power to shatter his world, if she wanted. This was not a one-sided effort. This was
   no manipulation. The thought reassured her somehow. Scully held as much power on 
   Mulder, as he held on her. And he trusted her to make the right choice: forgive him,
   and try to fix the rift, or send him away once and for all.

   She quickly showered and went down to the lobby of the Colisee. From there she saw 
   Mulder in a table, reading the newspaper. She went to him, not wanting to give up 
   what she thought of the flowers. She sat at the table, and he lifted his head to 
   look at her. She was wearing her favorite button up long-sleeved sweater shirt.

   "Hi. I was about to call you. I was waiting for you to have the petit dejeuner..."

   "Something interesting in the newspaper ?" She asked wryly. No smile. Nothing.

   "The factory explosion still deserves two or three blocks in the fifth page, but
   it is old news now. Apparently the newspapers here work the same way as in the States."

   "Mulder, I was thinking..." Scully said it, never taking her eyes away from Mulder.

   "Yes ?..." The anxiety in Mulder's eyes was evident. He was still worried, she figured.

   "We have to organize everything we have before showing it to the Comissioner. We need 
   to have answers for questions prepared in advance, othewise we will look like two nuts.
   We could go over all the evidence we got so far, compare notes and try to formulate
   a strategy on how to proceed." She sipped her coffee and waited for Mulder's reaction.

   "Sounds good. Perhaps it's a good idea to stay in the room and rest from
   all that running around from yesterday."

   During the breakfast, Mulder never touched the subject of the flowers. He also 
   didn't talk about the case. Instead, he simply read the newspaper to Scully,
   examined what was being shown in the movie theaters. He suggested one or two 
   movies, never getting more than a 'uh-uh' or a nod for an answer. As for Scully,
   her eyes never left him. All the time, she was examining Mulder. His face. His 
   twitches. She truly wanted to analyze, dissect, understand this lunatic for whom
   she had irreversibly lost her mind and given her heart. Mulder noticed her gaze,
   and started to feel like a corpse in an autopsy bay. 

   When they were done with their coffee, croissants and jelly, he suggested that they 
   went back to the room and started work. She silently acknowledged and headed towards
   the elevator, always feeling his hand on the small of her back. The concierge was 
   delighted by seeing that cute young couple. They seemed tense, as if they had had
   a fight, but Ah! C'est l'amour, he thought. Things should be spicy sometimes. And
   making peace after would be so nice. They were young, they would work it out, the
   old man thought.

   As they reached the room, the maid was there doing the beds. She asked if they 
   wanted the flowers disposed of. Mulder froze, as a prisoner in the stand, waiting
   for his sentence. The next few seconds were very likely to turn into the most
   painful of his life.

   Scully decided that enough was enough. She told the maid it was not necessary, and 
   politely dismissed her. Mulder was silent. He didn't dare to speak. Scully got the 
   envelope with the card and put it in her purse. She turned around and looked 
   directly, fiercely at him. Mulder seemed terrified.

   She smiled and summoned him. "Mulder, you idiot. Come here," He obeyed immediately.
   He put his arms around her, and she embraced his neck as if never wanting to let go.
   Mulder was sobbing. "I thought I had lost you... I'm sorry... Scully..."

   Mulder's tears were more than welcome. They showed how much she meant to him.
   "I know. I know. Never do that to me again, or I'll shoot you."

   It felt good. It felt right. But Scully had to bring them back to earth.
   "Put me down, Mulder. And stop crying in my shirt. We still have to work."

   Reluctantly Mulder obliged. He didn't want to push his luck. Still fighting to
   hold the tears back, he said, "Sure Scully. Let's begin with your autopsy, okay ?" 
   He opened the folder, which was considerably enlarged by now.

   "Sure, but go shower and shave first. You're a wreck." He nodded and headed
   to the bathroom. From inside, he still called her one last time.

   "Your mother called earlier, Scully. You should talk to her, she's worried."

   "Thanks Mulder. I will."





   Office of the Surete'
   Montpellier, France
   11:07 A.M.

   Comissioner Marquand was not happy. Never in his life he had heard so much 
   material from fantasy and science fiction.  M. Jacquot Fournier was silent 
   by his side, while Mulder stood up at the old man.

   "Mais c'est impossible !... Une conspiration internationale ?... Vous etes foules !..."

   "You can't dismiss the evidence, Marquand. If you do so, you help the men who are 
   behind this cover-up. Look here. Why the hell do you think they were studying the 
   response of the bees to those chemicals ?"

   "Ah oui, c'est sure ! Des abeilles !..." Marquand was exasperated.

   "Listen, if you allow this to go on, more people will die. You have to get your ass in
   that factory and find what's going on ! We know you can pull the strings if you want."

   Scully stood by Mulder's side, her arms crossed, her face inscrutable. She knew that
   Mulder was good at defending what was right. He might not have her sophistication
   or skill in verbal debate, but he always engaged in the fight as a lion. And in 
   this case, Scully was glad to see that Mulder was making a good job of it. 

   Marquand was in a very delicate position. Those two Americans might be crazy, but they
   HAD indeed gathered more than enough information to warrant at least a preliminary 
   investigation. The problem was, if he caught a flight to Brussels and showed that 
   folder at the Parlament, they would probably laugh in his face. His career could be over.

   "I can show this to my peers in the European Parlament. But I have only one vote."

   "Then do it. I'm sure your peers won't want more deaths on their consciences..."

   The Comissioner looked at Mulder. The answer was clear. A minute later, he spoke.
   "I will show your... evidence to the comission in charge of this operation. You
   will be informed of our decision later."

   They were dismissed. As Mulder escorted Scully back to the car, she told him, 
   "Mulder, I don't know what you expected him to say. The truth is, the only thing we 
   positively proved was that they didn't die of gunshots. All the conclusions are 
   circumstantial at best, if not completely crazy. He might be dismissed for that."

   "Scully, you saw what I saw. We went through the evidence this morning, together."



   A restaurant close to the Agropolis
   Montpellier, France
   1:00 P.M.

   The atmosphere had been smoothed a lot since the morning, and by lunchtime both Mulder 
   and Scully had gone back to their usual selves, shop talking, teasing each other and 
   making jokes loaded with innuendo. Scully realized, amused, that she was very satisfied
   and at ease with her completely illogical decision of forgiving her partner. 

   But now, she had to know if her trust was actually returned by Mulder. Scully infered
   from her partner's good mood that this was probably a good opportunity to ask him to 
   share something about his previous experience in this fabulous town. 

   "Mulder, you never told me how you discovered this town or why it is so important to you."

   "It was 1981. I was a junior at Oxford. At that time, we used to leave in the 
   Holidays and make exploration of tourism all over the Continent. For some reason,
   we had a preference for France and Belgium."

   "Why ? Fascination with the sophistication of cultural life or the beauty of the idiom ?"

   "Nope. I remember that it was less expensive.

   "In that year, things got a little rough... and... you know. Phoebe dumped me."

   "I'm sorry to hear that, Mulder. I was hoping that your connection to this town 
   might have been more pleasant."

   "But it was. You know, I could have stayed in Oxford, depressed and rejected, 
   but a friend of mine told me about this small town in France, full of culture, 
   good food, a lot of attractions... I decided to take my chances and I came here
   alone. It was the first time I went to make tourism completely by myself, with 
   no roomates, nobody to tease, nobody to take care of... It was great. I stayed
   at the Colisee back then. It was a dump, two stars only, but it fitted my budget
   and was close to the movement.

   "Those three weeks, a lot of things happened. I bought a lot of books on the ocult.
   I never ate so well in my entire life. I went to the Opera every three days, and to
   the movies every other day. I discovered the best places for getting hookers at a 
   decent price, and I visited the other towns in the region. It was incredible. It
   was as if life never ended, and time never stopped. My savings were gone at the end."

   As Mulder explained, Scully started to make associations inside her brain. No 
   wonder that Fox Mulder was a lone rider. Most of the good experiences in his 
   life came out at moments of loneliness. It was only natural that he insisted 
   in being alone.

   "When I went back to Oxford, the only thing I wanted was to get my degree, get the 
   hell out of there and start living again. Phoebe still tried to play mind games, but
   I stayed away from her. For my own good." 

   "Mulder, I think you should go back to Oxford."

   "What ?..."

   "I think you should choose a suitable occasion and go back. There is a lot of bad 
   memories you associate to Oxford. And I am not talking about Phoebe Green only. 
   You should try to reconcile with your past. Put things in perspective."

   "You could make a hell of a shrink, Scully." She blushed slightly at the cumpliment.

   "Thanks for the interest anyway. But right now, I have other things in my mind rather
   than deal with phantoms of the past. I'm not in denial, Scully. I just think that I should
   work now, in the present, so I can achieve what I want... what I need... in the future." 

   "Yeah ? And can you share with me what you hope to achieve for the future ?"

   "Two things in particular. I think you have a pretty good idea."

   "Samantha..." She tried not to sound hopeless about the issue.

   "That's one. You really should have been a shrink, Scully. I'm lucky,
   because this ability of yours makes it easy to deal with my lunacy."

   As they came back to the Hotel, Mulder was approached by the concierge,
   who gave him a message from Jacquot Fournier and Comissioner Marquand.

   "What is it Mulder ?"

   "It seems that you got an extra autopsy to perform, Scully. They found another body."

   Scully raised her eyebrows, completely surprised. "What ?... How ? Where ?"

   "Where else ? Your reliable local provider of corpses. The factory. Let's go."




   Autopsy Bay
   Local Office of the Surete'
   Montpellier, France
   1:20 P.M.

   Scully adjusted her lab coat, thankful that the lunch had been light. Even though,
   she took pills she kept in her purse to avoid the sickness. When they entered the
   autopsy bay, Mulder lifted the cover and looked at the face of the dead man.

   "Check this out Scully, this is the man who gave me that folder."

   She aswered behind the mask. "Are you sure ? Is this a positive ID ?"

   "You bet it is. They are cleaning house. In Canada the bee hives disappeared...
   In Terma, the bomb was just to destroy the rocks... It is the same pattern, only 
   here this factory is much bigger. This operation is more difficult to cover." 

   A dark thought crossed Mulder's mind. Whoever was behind this cover-up, was 
   getting tough. "All witnesses  are dead. The only remaining connection to 
   whatever happened in the factory in the last weeks is..." His eyes widened 
   as he realized the implications.

   And Scully's eyes widened as she uttered the words. "The folder !..."

   The folder that Marquand would take to Brussels. Mulder immediately 
   headed to the exit door. He quickly addressed Scully before leaving.

   "See what else you can find. I have to find Fournier... and the Comissioner."

   "Take care, Mulder !" She said behind the mask. He was gone.

   Scully turned back to the corpse. Fortunately she knew what to look for,
   and this one would be over in a considerably shorter time.

   Meanwhile, Mulder reached Fournier at the Surete' main office and asked, forcefully,

   "Ou est le Comissaire ? Dis-moi ! Sa vie peut etre en peril !"

   "Il est parti pour l'Airport... Avec la documentation. Vous avez lui
   perdi par quelques minutes soulement."




   Place de la Victoire
   downtown Montpellier
   3:12 P.M.

   Fox Mulder and Jacquot Fournier raced along the narrow streets of Montpellier. 
   Mulder could not believe those small, ugly french cars could speed like that...
   He also realized that the french reputation for bad driving was not exaggerated.

   As they reached the small car taking Marquand to the airport, Mulder immediately 
   jumped out of the car and tried to talk to the Comissioner. As the old man barked 
   orders to his escorts, Mulder scanned the square. On the other side, he saw a blind 
   man carrying a long package. The blind man raised his head and stared at the group.

   "Watch out !!!" Mulder threw himself against Fournier and the Comissioner, knocking 
   them both to the floor. It was only a second later that the world turned into chaos.

   Bullets flew everywhere, and the gendarmes in charge of the escort ran for cover,
   as Comissioner Marquand. Mulder cursed as he remembered he didn't have his gun. The 
   only thing he could do is to get the hell out of there. He noticed how, ten yards 
   away, Fournier shot back at the assailants from behind the car that had carried 
   the Comissioner. Fournier was so engaged in shooting back that he didn't see when,
   from another part of the square, a man with grey hair, dressed in black set and threw
   what seemed to be a granade. The granade rolled and stopped one yard behind him.

   Mulder didn't lose time. Launching himself from his spot, he raced towards Fournier,
   not caring about the bullets being fired. This place was hell, and he had better get
   out of there in any way possible. Mulder reached Fournier and started dragging the 
   short frenchman along the square, as fast as he could. Fortunately for Mulder, the
   man was small enough that he could almost carry him. Fournier, not understanding 
   why this fool American was taking him away from his covered spot, cursed and fought. 

   Mulder was almost getting out of the square, when he was hit by a bullet.
   He fell heavily to the ground, dropping Fournier.

   BOOOOOM !!!! 

   The explosion from the granade destroyed part of a building and launched pieces of
   debris in all directions. Comissioner Marquand, noticing that everything was quiet,
   coughed at the smoke and the dust, and saw Mulder and Fournier laying on the floor. 




   Emergency section
   Hospital Saint Helene
   Montpellier, France
   5:30 P.M.

   Scully entered the waiting room as had been indicated by the nurses. 
   As she opened the door, she noticed her partner, using nothing beyond a
   hospital gown, trying to climb a chair and reaching to the TV set above.
   Scully silently took some seconds to treat herself with a very flattering
   rear view of Mulder before she announced her presence. 

   "This outfit does a lot for you, Mulder. Congratulations to your taylor." 

   "Scully ! It's so good to see you." He left the chair with his right arm
   all wrapped up.

   "It seems that I can't leave you alone for one hour without you getting banged up."

   "You have to get me out of here. They removed the bullet and gave me a load
   of antibiotics. Since I was not in bad shape, they put me in this waiting room
   watching TV. It's umbearable. The television in this country sucks."

   Scully raised her eyebrows and looked at the TV set. It was showing something
   that looked like a french version of 'Chespirito'. She chuckled.

   "That's what you get from your admirable European public hospitals. No cable. However,
   it suits you well Mulder. But don't worry, I talked to the doctors. It was not that bad.
   They are just waiting for a battery of tests to come back, and they will release you."

   "How is Fournier ? And the Comissioner ?"

   "They are both alright. Fournier just hit his head when you knocked him down. You 
   probably saved both their lives, Mulder. I'm proud of you. On the other hand..."

   "What ?..."

   "The square has been completely demolished. The explosion destroyed all vitrines,
   not to say about a public building that now has one wall less. It was a miracle 
   that nobody got hurt, considering it was the beginning of the rush hour. The 
   traffic has completely stopped in the neighbourhood and, needless to say, the french 
   drivers are not happy. I had an intensive course on French cursing, including 
   gestures, while coming here. It seems that France is not ready for you yet, Mulder."

   "And the documents ?..."

   "The Comissioner reached the airport and got the hell out of here while
   he could. He must be landing in Brussels in... one hour. Come on, G-man.
   Let's try to get you out of here."



   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   10:13 P.M.

   Scully turned back, alarmed, as she heard her partner moaning of pain. He 
   was sat on his bed, with his body twisted in a very awkward way. She raised 
   her eyebrows and asked, "Mulder, what the hell are you doing ?"

   "Uuuuh... I am trying to take off this shirt. It's hard, with this wound. I can't turn."

   Scully looked at his boxers and gave Mulder an enigmatic smile. "Let me do it."

   Mulder froze. He had fantasyzed about Scully playing doctor to him before, but he
   hever had imagined that one day it would become true. Now, he started to become 
   painfully aware of her tiny hands, running all over him... Removing the shirt...
   His gaze never left her face as she carefully checked the wound and the bandages.

   When Scully was finally done, Mulder thought that the sweet torture was 
   finally over. He prepared to lay down in his bed as confortably as possible
   in that situation. He never had the chance, as she called him.   

   "Come here Mulder." She was giving him ANOTHER enigmatic smile. She patted on her bed.

   "What ?..."

   "We need a lot of healing, Mulder. Both of us. Come here."

   "Huummm, I can see you are no longer angry with me, Scully...
   But do you think this is a good idea ?"

   "No. I think it's a very bad idea. But I want to nonetheless."

   "Are you sure ? I mean... I will probably not sleep very well with this thing
   wrapped over my arm. It may not be very confortable for you, either."

   "I don't care. You know that all of us have inner traumas that have to be
   dealt with, and not denied. These last two days have been a little rough on
   me, Mulder. You are more knowledgeable than me about the importance of 
   psychological relief achieved by contact. That's why little babies have teddy
   bears. I am dealing with some issues in my head right now, and I trust you
   to help me dealing with them. In any way I see fit."

   Mulder started to move towards Scully's bed. "In other words, you need a 
   teddy bear ? I never thought of myself like that... Are you sure you okay 
   with this, Scully ? I mean... You are an attractive woman, and... in general, 
   girls don't trust that men will keep their manlihood to themselves."

   She knew exactly what he meant. "Mulder, you are my friend. I trust you. I know you 
   wouldn't try anything... improper. Besides, with your arm hurt like that, you present
   no danger to anyone. Much less to me. Now stop being a whimp and come to bed."

   Scully helped Mulder to lay down and roll so as to his wounded arm rested on 
   his body. Mulder almost panicked as he started to feel his manlihood manifest 
   itself in full force. He gulped and prayed that Scully didn't realize the
   awkward situation he was in. He was thankful he had his back to her...

   But she was not done yet. Scully gently reached with one arm under his body, 
   and Mulder realized he was DEFINITELY in trouble. "Scully, what are you doing ?..."

   "You said yourself. I need a teddy bear. And right now, you are 
   the only one I trust to do the job."

   She carefully reached the other arm so as her hand rested on his belly. 
   Mulder used his left arm to hold Scully's hand so he could avoid that she 
   accidentally touched his now dangerously sensitive groin. Unbeknownst to him,
   Scully was nuzzling his back and enjoying every second. She was naturally
   aware that her nipples were hardening and she was getting wet under her silk 
   pajamas, but feeling this close to Mulder was to good to pass. She inhaled 
   deeply and whispered at his ear, in a seductive voice, 
   "Good night, Mulder. Have nice dreams."

   If Fox Mulder had payed more attention, he would realize that his partner
   had not been lying about giving herself completely when in love. However,
   at this point, Mulder was embarrassed trying to keep his erection barely
   under control. This was driving him nuts. Scully gently and slowly snuggled
   one leg between Mulder's thighs. Talk about invading personal space.
   God, kill me now and I will die happy, Mulder thought. 

   Both Mulder and Scully stayed awake long after that night, eventually 
   dozing into sleep from pure exaustion. None of them complained though.



   Hotel Verdun-Colisee
   33 rue de Verdun
   Montpellier, France
   9:30 A.M. 

   Fox Mulder was not sure what was getting more under his nerves. The bearable
   but annoying pain in his arm and shoulders, or the grinning in the face of
   his fiery partner. She seemed very happy and satisfied with herself. Well,
   at least one of us is having a ball in this vacation, he thought.

   The telephone rang and Scully got it. She talked to someone for
   some minutes, and finally hang up the phone and turned to Mulder.

   "It was Fournier. He said the evidence was shown to the European 
   comissioners, and they voted to enforce a inspection of the factory,
   according to the guidelines established in our report."

   "UUUUUUH-UH !!!" Mulder jumped from his bed like a little boy.

   "Apparently the Europeans are more open to extreme possibilities than
   our government. Congratulations, Mulder."

   "To us, Scully. I couldn't have done it without you. What else did he say ?"

   "Well, it will take two or three days, but the corps of inspectors will check 
   the factory. We were asked to analyze the results of the inspection, what means
   that we got three days more to enjoy our vacation. And Fournier sent his regards.
   He invited us to have dinner with his family in a restaurant at the high town."

   "He must be happy to get rid of two Americans putting their noses on his business."

   "Actually he sounded eager to meet us. Apparently, once you saved his life, you were 
   turned into a honorary brother or something. He even spoke to me in English."

   "They say that the french are tough to be friends with, but once you get 
   one of them, he is your friend for life. This is a nice thought, isn't it ?"

   "It's a beautiful day outside. Do you feel like getting out and take some pictures ?"

   "Yeah, sure... Where do you want to go ?"

   "I want you to show me the School of Medicine."

   "Okay... But we already saw it."

   "That time didn't count, Mulder. I want to do it right. Be with you in a better mood."
 



   Somewhere in the Twin Towers
   Deutschland Bundesbank
   Frankfurt, Germany
   10:13 A.M.

   Dr. Kurtzweil knew that his cards were bad. He had reached a position in which he
   had to strictly follow orders, or he would be as good as dead in a matter of hours. 

   "This matter has become too hard to handle. Proceed with the alternate plan."

   "Won't it be difficult to avoid the press ?"

   "It will be worse if we let things as they are."

   "And what about Mulder ? He knows."

   "The only way he can use the information is getting inspectors inside the factory.
   At this point, this seems inevitable. Therefore, we have to get rid of the factory."

   "It shall be done. I'll attend to this personally."

   "We will be waiting for you to report to us as soon as this matter has been solved."

   Al Kurtzweil gulped. Perhaps he had pushed his luck too far. Now he had to 
   play the game as he didn't like. Rough.




   Esplanade Charles-de-Gaulle
   Montpellier, France
   12:11 P.M.

   Mulder and Scully enjoyed their crepes and the midday sun as they walked, hand
   in hand, among the pidgeons. Mulder didn't bother to think about the pain he 
   still endured in his arm. He thought he was the luckiest man on Earth.

   "You were right, Mulder. This place is incredible. Nice place for a honeymoon."

   Mulder stopped for a while to consider Scully's words, and their potential
   consequences. He wanted to believe that one day he would be that happy... 
   Meanwhile, Scully had finished her crepe and enjoyed feeding some corn to the
   pidgeons. She looked at Mulder and gave him one of her best enigmatic smiles. 
   He noticed that she was using that button up long sleeve sweater shirt she 
   liked so much. This was a good indication that she was in a good mood.
   Mulder took several pictures, and approached her.  

   "Do you think they are going to accept the conclusions of the report for good in the end ?"

   "I don't know, Mulder. We did all we could. We showed them the evidence, 
   and the Comissioner talked to the proper authorities. They decided to inspect
   the factory again, with new directives on what to look for. We couldn't expect
   anything better. No matter what happens, we did our job."

   "Yeah, I guess you're right. Enough of international conspiracies. Let's enjoy
   the rest of our paid vacations. God knows when we'll have another one."

   "That's the spirit. Come on, let's take some pictures at the fountains."  

   BOOOM ! Everybody in the Esplanade turned around to see what had happened. The
   pidgeons flew, alarmed, and a column of black smoke was visible from afar.

   "Oh my God. What was that ?"

   "I don't know... But it came from the direction of the factory. Looks like the 
   inspectors will not find much after all. Let's try to get there, and check." 



   LeBlanc chemical factory
   Montpellier, France
   1:03 P.M.

   When Mulder and Scully finally reached the Comissioner and M. Fournier, the 
   fireworkers frantically removed pieces of debris and corpses from the site.
   Small fires were being controlled. The factory had been completely obliterated
   by the blast. 

   "My God... What happened here ?"

   "I don't know, but I don't think there will be anything left for the inspectors."

   "Why ? There might be some evidence under the debris."

   "Look at the fireworkers, Scully. Some of them are using flamethrowers 
   instead of water jets. And they are exactly in the area of the laboratories.
   Have you ever seen anyone use fire to control fire ?"

   Comissioner Marquand approached them. The man was pale. He was visibly 
   in distress. "M. Mulder... Mlle. Scully... Merci bien. N'oubliez pas que...
   Personne plus va mourir a` cause de... Vous savez..."

   They excused themselves and left the scene. In the car, Mulder sneered, 
   frustrated, "Well, that's it Scully. Another X-File, opened and left unsolved.
   At least none of us ended up in a Hospital or in quarantine this time."

   "You were shot, Mulder. This was bad enough. Let it go. We did what we could."

   "I know, but it is frustrating nonetheless... Please take that left turn."

   "Where are we going, Mulder ?" She stopped the car as Mulder realized he could NOT 
   take her 'there'. Especially after everything they had gone through the last days.

   "I just remembered that I still have to buy something that Frohike asked me..."

   Scully noticed that Mulder was embarrassed, what meant that the 'gift' would probably
   involve boys' talk. She decided to spare Mulder of the explanation and herself of the
   details. "Hummm... I don't think I will go with you. I'll leave you here, and you can
   go by yourself, okay ? We can meet later at the Esplanade to watch the sunset. I'll be
   at the FNAC. I want to buy some gifts to Mom, books and some CDs of Irish music."

   "It's a deal. See you later." Fox Mulder was thankful that another blunder of 
   his had been avoided. He was a lucky man. He was convinced that his partner was
   worth her weight in gold. As he headed towards the stores, he made a mental note
   to stop later at a more respectable store and buy a teddy bear to Scully.

   After buying Frohike's doll and putting it in a discrete box, Mulder went back to the 
   hotel carrying the gift. He had better put that thing in his bag before meeting Scully.
   On his way, Mulder stopped by a fancy store and found something better than a teddy 
   bear. A fox... The color of the fur matched Scully's hair. Now that was luck. 

   Fox Mulder smiled, satisfied. In spite of the outcome of the case, he realized that
   he had gotten more from this trip than he had ever expected. He even had time to think
   about some questions regarding his own life. One question in particular...

   Die brennende Frage.
  



   46th Street, New York
   two days later
   4:44 P.M.

   Al Kurtzweil entered the elegant room with his best poker face. He scanned the 
   surroundings, as if probing the kind of ground he was going to step in. The 
   Cigarette Smoking Man blowed the smoke from the cigarette and stared at him.

   "Has been some time, Al."

   "That's true. I see that time has not been kind... On any of us."

   The Well-Manicured Man kept his stern, rigid face.

   "This matter has been solved as well as it could be in the circumstances. 
   But it still leaves us with questions on the security of this operation."

   "I believe Dr. Kurtzweil has something to say on this..."

   "This is inevitable. In this kind of operation, one always finds individuals
   that at a certain point are assaulted by personal conflicts. It has happened
   before, even at the level of this room. Bill... Ronald. And I don't have to
   remind you of the regrettable incident of last year... at Mulder's apartment...
   when he found the bee hives and his sister's clones in Canada."

   Kurtzweil did not enjoy to speak of his friends in this context, but
   he knew he was probably fighting for his life right now. He had to keep up
   playing the game. The Cigarette Smoking Man raised from his chair.

   "In all these cases, the outcome was the only one possible. We are too 
   close to a resolution now to allow this kind of distraction. The date
   has been set, and the project will continue. Unabeited."


                        T   H   E        E   N   D
 

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